Monday, January 20, 2014

Weeping rubies

Corrugated air plastered the gold-flecked scarf to my face. This would not be an easy day. She kept revisiting her conversation with her family from the day before. What did she say that had caused her to be so misunderstood? Recalling the anger in her mother's face and voice set her stomach falling again, and tears threatened.

She vowed to stay out of self-pity, and told herself that they were grownups who didn't need her to help make decisions.

"And neither do I," she said aloud, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Her hands came away with tiny droplets of red that hardened into gems as they dried. She nodded. Precious indeed, these were.